


The Witch Trial

by DandelionSea, Kamari333, Odderancy (dreamcatchers_and_chocolate)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: ;), Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Swapfell, Alternate Universe - Underswap, Angst, Attempted Murder, Big Brother Papyrus, Big Brother Sans, Conspiracy, Drowning, Execution, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Near Death Experiences, Pranks, Secrets, Serfdom, Stretch Knows More Than He Lets On, Swapfell Papyrus - Freeform, Swapfell Sans, Underswap Papyrus, Underswap Sans, Witch Trials, for now, hints of romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-04-21 16:32:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14288937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DandelionSea/pseuds/DandelionSea, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamari333/pseuds/Kamari333, https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamcatchers_and_chocolate/pseuds/Odderancy
Summary: A collab based onthis marvellous drawing.A child dies while getting treated by the village healer. Suddenly, he's accused of being a witch, and it is decided that his guilt shall be tried, using the swimming test. If he survives, he's a witch. If he dies, he's innocent. The same day, a noble decides to take a ride over the meadows of his father's estate.





	1. Chapter 1

The water was pressing at him. Squeezing him. As the light of the surface quickly dimmed, Razz’s sockets were wide in panic. His soul pounded so hard he thought his ribs would break as he tried to claw his way back up. It was to little use. The chain and stone around his leg dragged him downwards, away from the air. For a moment, he could hear his brother’s screaming from above before he sank too deep. His mouth was open, but he wasn’t breathing. The stone hit the river’s bottom with a _thump_.

His lungs were burning. It hurt so much. He didn’t want to die. Those _traitors_. For years he’d been giving them medicines and potions and healed their wounds. Then they decided that it was his fault that the kid he’d been treating had died. They’d thrown him in the river to test if he was a witch. The fury made him see red, but it was short-lived. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe and it hurt and he was going to die. Finally, he gasped. His body were desperate for air. Desperate enough to try to breathe underwater.

As the water travelled down to his lungs and into his bones, he screamed. It was pure agony. Bubbles tickled his face before floating upwards. Razz kept trying to fight his way back up, and as he did, he felt himself getting more and more light-headed. Eventually, as black dots began to fill his eyes, he gave up. He sank toward the bottom, no air left in his body. He was going to _die_.

* * *

Furious yelling disturbed Blue’s afternoon ride. Frowning, he turned his horse – Belle – toward the source. There was screaming as well. Pure screams, without words. He threw a questioning glance at his guard, but they looked just as confused. He pressed gently at Belle’s side, causing her to gallop. When they closed in on the yelling, he could make out words.

“Drown the witch!” seemed to be the most used phrase. His sockets widened and he stood up in the stirrups, hurrying Belle on. The hooves thundered over the grass fields. Blue jerked the reins as he saw what was going on. A skeleton was forced out on the bridge over a river. A stone was chained to their leg. On the side, another skeleton was being restrained by some others. They were screaming. The noise was ear-shattering.

There was a second, short scream as the accused witch was thrown into the water. A splash. They were gone. The skeleton on the shore’s screaming doubled. Breath catching in his throat, Blue hurried his horse on. He could hear the guard’s yelling, but ignored it.

* * *

The next thing Razz knew was light. It was so _bright_. Beautiful. Then he coughed. He rolled over to his side, coughing so hard his body shook and twitched. Water fought its way up his throat and out his mouth. The grass beneath his body itched and someone was pounding on his back. He wasn’t dead. _How?_

“Hey, hey, breathe,” someone said from above him, and he gasped in air. The feeling as it passed through his body was indescribable. The hand on Razz’s back began to rub soothing circles instead of hitting it. A sob escaped him. They’d tried to kill him. The people of the village he’d lived his whole life in – people he’d known his whole life – had tried to kill him. But he was alive. He didn’t know how but he was alive.

Once he could breathe properly again, once the water was out of his body, he rolled over. Found himself staring at bright blue eyelights and a smile. Letting his eyes wander, Razz realized the other was drenched, but well-dressed. Far too well-dressed for their village, in silks and clear colours. They held out a hand, and he hesitantly took it. As he slowly stood, the ground swayed. He had to grab the stranger’s shoulder to keep himself from falling.

With slightly spinning head, he looked up. The other side of the river was almost empty. Where before had been half the villagers only two persons stood. Someone with a sword, which pointed at the second person – _Slim_.

“ _Brother_ ,” he gasped, stumbling a step forward, only to have to grab the stranger again as the ground seemed to disappear. The stranger’s smile turned even kinder, and they gestured toward the swordsperson. They lowered the sword. Within seconds, Razz let out a pant as arms squeezed him so tightly he lost his breath again. He threw his arms around his brother’s neck, clinging on him. The stranger cleared his throat.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t make him pass out from asphyxiation again?” Razz’s sockets narrowed, and he felt Slim squeeze him tighter. They had no idea what that meant. “Suffocation,” the stranger clarified.

Slim immediately let go of him. That prompted a chuckle out of the other. They extended a hand for Razz to shake, and he did so while eyeing the other in suspicion and curiosity. Why had they saved him? They didn’t know each other. If no one in the village had cared, why would they? His soul pulsed painfully.

“I’m Blue,” they said cheerfully. “Blue of Springs. It’s nice to meet you, even if it could’ve been under better circumstances.”

As the other introduced himself, Razz gaped. This was the firstborn son of the lord who owned the county. Owned their village. That really explained why no one had stayed to try to kill him, at least. Except for the sword that other person had.

“Razz, m’lord,” he replied stiffly, voice rough after screaming and vomiting water. The other had saved him. But it probably wasn’t a good idea to put any trust in nobility. He jerked his head toward Slim. Immediately regretting it, as it began to thump. “My brother, Slim.”

Blue was still smiling as he nodded, “Well, Razz, Slim, how about you come with me home? I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay here. They’ll probably just throw you back into the river once I leave. There you can rest, and then you can do what you want.”

Exchanging a gaze with his brother, Razz sighed. There wasn’t much else he could do, was there? His head was still spinning. He wouldn’t be able to get very far. They had no money, since the villagers probably had taken it all. Grabbing Slim’s hand and squeezing it, he nodded.

“Thank you, m’lord.”

He twitched as Blue slapped his hands together, grinning.

“Great! You can ride one of the horses, since you almost drowned and all. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay at the castle.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Razz adjusts to life at the castle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> XD I don't know how this happened entirely, but I guess we've written a fic now XD
> 
> Thanks so much to [Kyuko-chan](https://kyuko-chan.tumblr.com/) for making the lovely drawing that inspired us all, to odd for starting this chain, and to [Kamari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamari333) for continuing it. It is so much fun to work with so many talented people, and I hope we add more as time goes on <3

“Good Morning, M’lord,” Razz rises from his chair the moment he sees the young lord enter the library, curtsies deeply. Blue chuckles, waving a hand dismissively.  The deep lilac skirt sewn with elite deftness to Razz’s dress crinkles under his fingers as he relaxes his stance; slowly he is becoming more accustomed to the odd noble’s gregariousness.

“Sit, sit,” Blue says, shaking his head. “I don’t like it when you stand in my presence; it is as if we aren’t friends.” Blue smiles at the other skeleton, taking a seat across from Razz and reclining back.

“Of course we are friends, M’lord - you saved my life,” Razz’s eyes lower - feigning indifference to the comment as his cheeks burn softly. Because he was ~~requested~~   _ordered_ to sit he returns to the plush divan, re-burying his nose into his chosen book. The village from which he came had only a small collection of book reserved for the upper class and medicine workers; learning to read had been a challenge that Razz only ever half-accomplished. However, now that he is surrounded by written word and without much else to do Razz will not allow the opportunity to pass. Blue insists daily that he and his brother are to stay as long as they please, but Razz is wiser than blind faith. Anything could happen (as his ‘ _trip’_ to the bottom of the village’s lake taught him) and so long as he isn’t physically removed from the room Razz will absorb as much reading as he can.

Unfortunately, it seems fate has other plans for him.

“You really shouldn’t stay in this dusty place all day,” Blue comments, breaking Razz away from his reading once more. If it weren’t a lord speaking to him Razz would glare; instead he places his marker in the book and fixes the other with the attention Blue’s rank merits.

“With all due respect, M’lord, I quite like it here,” He says, trying so hard to keep his tone from betraying his annoyance. If there was one problem that Razz had it was concealing his emotions at appropriate times. It was never a problem before in his village, where everyone was as poor as piss and not a soul in sight deserved his respect (save his ever-loyal brother, of course). Now, though, Razz is constantly watching his tongue; regardless of Blue’s boundless hospitality, his place is far above that of some pesant. Not to mention the countless other elites who wander these halls - Razz is always aware of the dirty glances he and his brother receive, roaming the halls freely. Returning to the conversation, Razz forces a respectful smile. “The books are soothing, and there is much to be learned from them.”

Blue chuckles, shaking his head. “You sound like my brother…” He glances at the small stack Razz assembled for himself earlier that morning. “I could never find so much enjoyment out of these things, not when there is so much world out there to explore!” It is not Razz’s place to disagree; however he does. Greatly. Razz has been out in the _real_ _world_ the majority of his life and it is certainly nothing like the paradise that Blue makes it out to be. Razz forms and bites his tongue to keep from speaking out of turn. 

If the young lord noticed, he says nothing, merely standing once more and closing the gap between him and Razz. “Come! Let us go out for a walk!” Blue says, eyes wide and pooling with excited magic. “A break will be good for your health, and there is much more of the castle that I have yet to show you!”

Razz would rather not, if he were being honest, but at the same time he can’t deny Blue what he wants. Only because of his status, of course; It has nothing to do with those star-studded eyes that knit Razz’s heart when they appear, or the deep enthusiasm woven neatly in Blue’s voice, or the excited knots that appear in Razz’s stomach at thought of spending time with the noble. Those things are irrelevant; foolish flights of fantasy, nothing more.

“Very well, M’lord,” Razz says returning the book to its stack. Hopefully it will still be there when they return. “As you wish.”

Blue giggles to himself, seemingly satisfied. As the head for the oak doors of the library he speaks again. “I wish you wouldn’t call me that,” He says, startling Razz with his sudden words.

“M’lord?” Razz returns, not entirely understanding the statement.

“Exactly,” Blue says, making a wild gestures with his hands. “I have told you my name; is it really so hard to just call me Blue?”

Razz raises a brow, eyes locked on Blue as he attempts to understand why the young lord would make such a request. “I… cannot call you by your given name,” He says simply, attempting to conceal his nerves by balling his hands at his side. “It would be improper.”

Blue huffs longly, limping his wrist. “Titles and properness are for the court and parties,” Blue quips, shaking his head. “Alone, among friends, I am Blue. Nothing more.” He turns to Razz, eyes closed - grin splitting his face. “And as you said - we  _ are _ friends.”

Razz’s face burns as he watches the young lord beem; he pretends it is only the midday sun hitting his cheeks. Razz focuses on the sprawling courtyard before him, taking in deep breaths of fresh air. The library can be awfully stuffy, Blue was right on at least that account. If he were back in the village he would take off his shoes and allow his toes to wiggle in the fresh clover; though perhaps if he requested permission for such foolishness Blue would join him. Razz hasn’t the nerve yet, so he settles for tucking his knees beneath his dress and relaxing.

“Perhaps, if you insist on using titles at every point of the day, I will just have to start calling  _ you _ m’lord,” Blue teases, coming to sit beside Razz. The other skeleton chokes, looking back at Blue with wide eyes. That’s… so vulgar…

“M’lord, please, do not jest at my expense!!” Razz cries, cheeks finally throughly flushed. Blue’s smile grows

“Of course, M’lord,” He returns, voice mimicking Razz’s in an impression that might very well have fooled Razz himself. Razz can’t help the laugh rising up in his throat. Such a strange little noble he is…

The two break off into idle chat; conversation wandering point-to-point with no particular goal. Razz keeps himself tucked carefully the whole time. While personal hygiene is still of the utmost importance to the skeleton, Razz has yet to force himself to take a proper bath since his arrival. The bathing areas of the castle are exquisite for sure, however each time Razz has made an attempt to approach the water his vision goes black, and his brother is forced to carrying him away as he reverts to a child by the mere presence of a liquid. Pathetic. Soap and rags make decent substitute for the time…

“Have you made any plans for tonight, Razz?” Blue asks without much lead up. Razz blinks, head cocking and mouth twitching up.

“What plans could I have made, M’lord? It’s not as I have patients here,” He returns, a bit more confidence behind his words now he and Blue had been speaking for some time. The statement makes his soul ache some, though he doesn’t really care to analyze it as he pushes those feelings away.

“Perhaps you and your brother were up to something?” Blue shrugs. In all honesty Razz isn’t sure what his beloved brother is up to during the day. They always meet up at night; despite now having two beds to themselves they still cling to each other at night. (Razz couldn’t imagine sleeping without his brother, though he’d never dare admit it)  However during the day when Razz goes off to the library Slim occupies himself elsewhere. Razz has heard mumblings of he and the other child of the lord going off together, though when he asks his brother goes quiet. 

Regardless, Razz shakes his head. “No, M’lord,” He replies, curiosity peaked. “I take this to mean you have an activity in mind, then?” 

Blue nods. “Indeed I do, other M’lord,” He teases, sending a finger poking into the side of Razz’s face. Razz leans away just a touch, eyes glancing sideways at the other. Such a _strange_ noble indeed… “Perhaps tonight you can join us in the great hall for dinner! There will be a banquet tonight to celebrate the first hunts of spring. There will be bread, wine, music, dancing, some soups, perhaps vincent if there is any back from the hunt! My brother is an excellent trapper, you know.”

Razz’s eyes go wide as he processes this information. Dinner… with the Lords of the Land. Until now he and his brother had been eating in the servant’s hall or their personal quarters; Razz wouldn’t dream of setting foot in the rooms meant for nobility. Without intending to Razz’s soul begins to pick up pace, a warm trill running through his bones.

“Will my brother be permitted to attend as well?” Razz inquires. As entertaining as it all sounds, Razz wouldn’t dream of going to such an event without his brother by his side. Blue laughs.

“Of course!” He replies. “I believe he was out today with the trapping party; it was my understanding that Slim was being trained by my brother in the japery arts…” He says. Razz’s head turns. Odd… he hadn’t been aware of such lessons. The two of them never keep secrets from each other without reason. Razz will have to ask Slim about this rumor later; his brother  _ surely _ will have a good explanation ( _ he better… _ ). “Regardless, I would love if you would both attend - I will most certainly save you a seat across from me.” 

Razz feels warmed by the sentiment, his bones feeling just a touch lighter with emotion suddenly coming over him. “I would be honored, M’lord,” He says, pressing a hand over his chest and bowing his head in a show of respect; this time he means it.

Blue snickers, rising to his feet as the bells chime for 2 pm. “I will be honored to have you, M’lord Sire Razz.” He teases once more. Razz closes his eyes to hide them rolling, shaking his head.

“You had better not do this at the banquet - you’ll embarrass us both.” Razz says, looking back toward the library. There is still plenty of time to finish his book before he needs to get ready…

Blue’s hands rest on his hips, chest puffed out strong. “I have been groomed since birth to behave in any social setting, m’lord,” He says, once again shaping his voice to a highly passable interpretation of Razz’s tone. “You needn’t worry about my manners, though your concern flatters me greatly.” 

Razz shakes his head. If nobles were bird this one would be a turkey indeed. The smile stays at his teeth as he bids the young lord good day and returns to the library, a lit to his step as he does. He will have to track down one of the servants later to help him prepare for the feast; though that can wait just a bit longer. The book was just about to explain the regenerative abilities of passionflower, and if Razz can just figure out a few more words he might can think of a way to add it to one of his existing recipes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whats been going on with Slim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fixed some typos  
> sorry friends i know this is baaaaad XD

Slim was never going to let it happen again.

He could still feel the soul crushing agony he had felt when he was forced to watch them send his brother into the water, forced to watch as the bubbles slowly fadded, forced to watch Razz die. He had nearly lost his mind. He ~~thinks~~ knows he might have killed ~~them all~~ himself if that small azure lordling hadn’t dove into the river. ~~He might have killed those ungrateful pesants anyway if that bodyguard hadn’t stopped him.~~

Slim is certain if they leave this place, it will happen all over again. They might find another village, make another home, but it will just be taken away again. His brother will just be taken away again. And he can’t. He can’t let that happen again.

So he has to find a way to make this lavish place accept them. He has to find a way to make _this_ their new home. Slim knows that Razz would never approve, that even if he succeeds, his proud, opinionated brother would be miserable here where he is strangled by his own pride and sense of decorum into muted meekness, and if it were any other reason Slim himself would be equally disdainful of the idea of keeping him under such disrespectful gazes as those which he is painfully aware come from the local nobility. However, this is about his brother’s life. That trumps everything.

Slim would do anything for Razz.

He started by trying to find work around the estate. If he had a job, made himself useful, they would allow them to stay, right? The problem was that he had been turned away at every turn, either by pitying eyes that had no work to offer, or reproachful glares that thought him too uneducated and backwater for even the most mundane of tasks.

Slim would call himself a patient man. He could take being turned away because of one reason or another (the stablemaster thought him too dumb to tend to horses, the house hands too irreverent to clean, the knights too weak to even lift a sword, the list goes on). The last straw had been when he went to the kitchens, thinking to get a spot scrubbing pots. The head cook had not only turned him away, but called him scum, his brother a witch, and accused him of enchanting the bubbly lord Blue with their sorcery.

Slim couldn’t very well let that stand unpunished.

The next day the cook awoke to all his clothes being gone, somehow ending up buried in the gardens on the far side of the courtyard. The only article left was a loincloth. The cook was forced to tred the halls of the castle thusly, to the shock (and amusement) of everyone.

Slim thought that the end of it, and was about to resume his search for a job, when he heard a few slow claps behind him.

“Nicely done. I don’t think even he would believe you managed it,” said a voice.

Slim stopped, turning to look. Behind him stood a figure in high-quality but modest clothes, the kind a courier or a page might wear. However, rumples and creases abounded, as though they were slept in, something neither class would do with what would amount to some of their finer garb.

It was only when Slim looked at his face (his skeletal face) did it click that this was the second son of the lord.

Slim quickly looked to the floor. “‘fraid I dunno whatcha mean, m’lord,” he mumbled.

The lordling waved him off. “Stretch, please, if you dont mind. That stuffy nonesense can wait for court.” He pushed off the wall and came closer. “And you dont have to play dumb either. I couldn’t have done better myself. Ignorant gerk shouldn’t go around throwing accusations like that around. People get hurt like that.”

Slim looked up only when he felt a hand alight on his shoulder. “Heard you were looking for work?”

“Yes, m’lord Stretch,” Slim answered as he knew he had to, a plan already forming in his head.

Stretch grinned. “If you’re so bored even work sounds better than nothing, I could use a page. Preferably one that will call me by name? And maybe help me let the pigs loose in the maids’ quarters?”

Slim however, was thinking a bit further ahead. His brother would never approve. It wasn’t exactly honorable. But he would do it. He would bow, scrape, and suck up to this spoiled brat, get in his good graces, and establish himself as an invaluable confidant.

He’d even service him if he had to.

Slim would do anything to help his brother, even play nice with this overgrown man child who knew nothing of the real world, and who with all of his oppertunities, still had nothing better to do than torment the help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> huh i wonder how he did that


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The festival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is like potato chips - one chapter just wasn't enough >:3

Music, mead and merriment mark the evening, dancing alongside the guests as the festivities draw on through the night. The long table where the actual feast was held has long since been abandoned in favor of the growing gaiety in the courtyard. Hunters traverse the room, wooing the young ladies and lords with tales of their travels (perhaps a little exaggerated, though still wholesome and merry). 

Razz finds himself tipsy on wine, partaking in little conversation as he sits to himself on the bench away from the firepit. Really, he should have brought a book; this event is dreadfully dull for having so much energy about it. He brushes out the wrinkles in his dress, ever-thankful that Blue had thought to have one lent to him so he wouldn’t stick out among the nobles.

The dinner had been lovely, at least. Razz had never before seen so much food in one place - not even in the winter stores of his village. Though, when the guests arrived, the quantity certainly lived up to the volume of guests. Nobles from within the lands as well as town elders and even a handful of dukes flooded the halls. Blue had been sure to greet them all, sometimes flitting off to shake hands and converse with the attendees; at the end he always returned to his seat by Razz, glad to pick up the conversation right where it left off.

The attention is flattering, Razz thinks. He would be dreadfully out of place in these halls if it weren’t for Blue. 

And the food itself was  _ divine _ . Some of the greatest meat and bread Razz has ever tasted. Truly, the hunters have earned this feast. The wine as well is leagues above what Razz remembers from life as a peasant. Though he rarely partook, the drink he recalls was sour and bitter, tasting more of bitterness and death than of merriment. He could never understood how one could stand being a drunkard, through if drinks could taste like this alcoholism certainly seems more feasible…

“Razz, you haven’t left this spot in hours,” Blue comments, returning from a long conversation with the Earl of a neighboring land who holds some sort of familial relationship to the young lord. Razz hums in affirmation, not quite remembering how to respond to the comment. His cup is half empty, though it is far from the first he has drank that night. 

Blue giggles, surely noticing the flush of Razz’s cheeks and the lul to his stance. Razz feels a tiny trill of embarrassment in him somewhere. 

Somewhere… 

Blue holds out a hand. “Come! Dance with me!” 

Razz watches the hand for a moment, eyes returning up to meet the young lords. “I cannot dance,” he replies simply, shaking his head. 

“Nonsense! This is no formal ball or banquet; I see you tapping your foot to the music - that is all you need to dance at a festival!” Blue practically pulls Razz up by his arm. Once again, it is not Razz’s place to refuse the other his wishes. Besides, perhaps it could be fun! Music somehow seems more… convivial than it has before to him. His body longs to move within its flow…

Blue guides Razz into the grass where the guests are swaying, the quartet of strings picking up pace with a jovial song Razz is sure he’s heard before. Out of the corner of his eye he can see his brother, arm-in-arm with the other son of the lord. Slim’s eyes are closes, his head resting on the other’s shoulder. Perhaps he has discovered the honey mead and cinnamon cider.

Smells of smoke and spring keep time around Blue and Razz as they sway together; Blue’s rapid, carefree movements encourage the same from Razz. Between the music, atmosphere, and the moonlight Razz finds himself quickly lost to the stimulus. He’s laughing - Blue laughs too. The air is cool, the fire is warm, the music slows down and their bodies respond, swaying together.

“This is nice…” Razz practically whispers, sitting down on a log by the fire. Blue pulled him there at some point and the two have been sitting together at the hip ever since. There is a small crowd around them, but as far as Razz is concerned it is just the two of them. His head lauls onto the other’s shoulder, restrain a distant memory of a different skeleton. “Thank you for inviting me…”

“Of course! Mwehehe,” Blue giggles, booping Razz on the nose. “For one as magnificent as I, one must be accompanied by an equally lovely date!”

Razz hums along, the words and their meaning only reaching the surface level of his sleep consciousness. “Naturally, M’lord.” He yawns, closing his eyes. “You truly are Magnificent…”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of whats going on with Slim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this feels rushed because it was
> 
> Why can’t i stop thinking about this fic now?! i have so many other projects jfc Kam stop goofing off aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
> 
> a thankyou to odderancy and dandelion for beta reading~ they are so nice and great~

Slim didn’t know how much more of Stretch he could take. Granted, the young lordling was clever, and intelligent, ~~and attractive~~ , and he had an admirable sense of justice, but his innocence and naivety were grating. It was just like when Slim had been with the young lord Blue: he was stunned by how bright, cheerful, and easygoing they were in a world that had proven to be dark, cruel, and unforgiving.

~~Slim ground down the tiny voice saying that the lordlings had by their very nature and existence proven that the world had some forgiveness. He would not gamble his brother’s life on evanescent luck.~~

The one saving grace to this whole affair was the lordling’s sense of humor. Stretch was surprisingly witty, and clever with wordplay. Furthermore, he seemed to enjoy Slim’s puns and jokes as much as he enjoyed making his own.

Or perhaps he was like Slim, and took visceral delight in the anguished groans of their other companions, a captive audience to their two man comedic routine.

Stretch now led a small trapping party, intent on hunting down a boar for the upcoming feast. Slim, as his page, (and wasn’t that a shot at his pride, to be a page at his age? it was a good thing Slim didn’t care about prestige or advancement for their own sake, or the petty jabs by the knights who accompanied them on the hunt might have hurt his feelings), was tasked with handling the hunting gear, and later dragging the game back to the castle. Slim was just glad this particular hunt was being carried out on foot, as he certainly couldn’t ride horseback, and hardly though any of the others would have appreciated having his lanky frame clinging to them throughout the ride.

Well... Stretch might have found that amusing, perhaps...

Regardless, the party had been walking for some time, looking for signs of game. Finding little, Stretch had set to amuse them with commentary and puns.

“My lord, surely you are the most clever in the land, to have uttered so many words of wit,” one of the knights praised, laughing softly. His voice was light and he wore a grin, but Slim could see the tension in his jaw and hear the note of insincerity. It makes Slim sick inside. It makes him want to punch the man and perhaps leave a dent in his precious armor. But he doesn’t. Instead he keeps his eyes on the woods around them, catching sight of the first sign of a boar (a fresh tuft of dark brown fuzz clinging to a prickly bush) they had had in what must have been hours.

Slim keeps a straight face and says nothing. It is not his place to guide the hunt. He is a glorified pack mule, and contributing any other way might bruise the ego of the nobles.

The group passes the sign and continue onward, following Stretch’s lead.

It is only when Slim sees the faint claw marks in the tree bark that he finally speaks. “Mlord, we should turn back,” he murmured softly in Stretch’s acoustic meatus, trying to be inconspicuous.

Stretch, ever oblivious, stopped dead, turned to Slim, and asked “Why should we turn back?” in a voice a few clicks too loud, enough for the rest of the party to have heard.

One of the other knights scoffed. “A p- _page_ is hardly experienced enough to know anything worth listening to, my lord. And we have caught nothing yet, so the hunt is still on!”

Slim knows that that is not what the knight was about to say. He also knows he saw a... hardness... in the lordling’s gaze right before the knight amended his linguistic choice. He studied Stretch’s face carefully, suspicious and uncertain, but the ‘hardness’ was gone, replaced by his usual lazy, unbothered grin.

Stretch shrugged his shoulders, idly fiddling with the bow in his hand. “Perhaps... but perhaps not. Slim? Why should we turn back?”

Slim ground his teeth. The amusement, the condescension, in Stretch’s voice irritated him like it did in nobody else. ~~He had never cared enough about impressing anyone before.~~ Slim swallowed back his seemingly newborn pride and pointed to the tree. “There are wolves here. Even if they don’t attack us, they will have run any game worth catching off. ...Mlord.” He added the honorific as an afterthought, although it tasted sour on his tongue.

Stretch smiled a bit wider, pleased with that answer, and looked at the others. “Were you going to mention that, Sir Theodor?”

The knight (Theodor? How did Stretch remember all these names??) flinched, looking between the tree and Slim as if they had both personally offended him. “He’s just making things up n-“

Stretch cut him off with a crisp hand gesture. “I’ll have to let father know that the knight master is slipping in his old age, if he forgot to teach you how to read the signs of predators.”

Theodor flinched, his face turning red with embarrassment and anger. He directed a hateful look at Slim, but kept silent.

Stretch rolled his shoulders. “So, we turn back, and look the other way. And maybe this time we can actually use our eyes, hmm?”

Slim was just as flabbergasted as the others. Stretch had seen everything that he had, but purposely feigned ignorance to see who would speak first. He had, in the process, highlighted Slim’s own skills which outclassed the nobles (something Slim had been pointedly trying to avoid doing).

And Stretch looked pleased as punch about it. Like he wanted to show off. Like he had wanted this to happen.

Slim kicked himself inwardly for ~~trusting~~ letting his guard down around the lordling. He should have known that he would only make things harder. He should have known the ignorant bum act was just that, an act.

It was then that he heard the growling.

The party was suddenly surrounded by a large pack of wolves. The animals were slightly emaciated, driven by hunger to attack more dangerous looking prey. The larger of the pack crept forward, growling.

All Slim could think about was how warm their fur looked, how he would love to be able to hand something so fine to his brother as that, to keep warm during the long winter months.

Theodor drew his sword, as did the other knights. Slim had to focus hard not to flinch. Using weapons like that would ruin the fur. It was such a waste...

Stretch watched Slim intently, then clasped his arm. “What would you suggest we do?”

Slim looked at him. “....shoot ‘m in the eyes, or if ya must use swords, stab through the mouth into the skull. if we gotta kill ‘m, no point wasting good fur...”

One of the other knights sneered. “We’e being attacked and all he can think about is profit.”

Slim bit back a retort about how sick, malnourished animals were hardly something for a noble knight to be afraid of, and how not everyone could afford to toss away quality goods on a whim.

Stretch looked between Slim and the wolves, then shrugged. “Keep what you kill I suppose. Its up to you whether what you have in the end is worth anything.” He knocked an arrow, taking aim. “I for one think a nice fur would be a grand prize.”

Slim drew the knife he had been allowed for his own use. It was higher quality than what he had ever had in the village, nearly half as long as his arm.

When the wolves pounced, all hell broke loose. The knights fought ~~stupidly~~ _valiantly_ , slicing through flesh, their style and methodology meant to cause their foe to either retreat or die of blood loss. The hungry wolves couldn’t afford to give up, however, and continued on relentlessly.

Stretch dodged and wove back, scaling a tree in seconds before loosing his arrows. He had rather good aim, striking through the eyes more often than not.

Slim, with his short range weapon, dove into the fray. He fearlessly jabbed right into the open maw of the nearest beast, watching the light die from their intelligent eyes before moving on to the next. The second wolf snapped at his ankle, trying to down him. He fell, cursing, but used his new vantage point to stab up through the jaw. Before he could get up, a third wolf pounced on him, lashed out with its claws, getting Slim in the ribs. Slim flinched back, choking on a yelp. An arrow distracted the beast long enough for him to get his knife in to finish the job.

The last wolf was slain.

Stretch jumped from his perch, inspecting the aftermath. Slim was the only one of the hunting party to sustain any injury.

Slim gathered up the beasts with viable pelts: which largely amounted to his and Stretch’s kills. It was a bit much for him, especially with his injuries, but he managed to tie them together with rope and haul them along as Stretch led them back to get that elusive boar.

* * *

The hunt had been a success. Stretch had struck the boar between the eyes and the hunting party had returned to the castle. The lordling had happily instructed tanner to do what he could with the wolf pelts, which Slim delivered.

Slim had thought that was the end of it, and had tried to excuse himself back to the servants quarters. Stretch, however, had other ideas. He snatched Slim by the arm and dragged him to another room, pushing a bundle into his hands and telling him to, “Go wash up and get dressed. Can’t have you attending the festival looking less than your best!”

Slim had dutifully, if grudgingly, complied, silently begging his brother’s forgiveness for going without him. In all honesty he didn’t want to go at all, but he was Stretch’s page. He had to go if he was bid. He checked his ribs, rubbing over the scarred scratches and healing cracks. His ankle didn’t even hurt anymore as he stepped into the nicest pair of pants he had ever worn.

Of course, Slim had thought he was going to work (serve food/drink, carry messages, and other page duties). When instead he was handed a plate and told to, “Loosen up, its a party!” he was taken aback. Stretch just grinned at him before getting pulled into what sounded like a boring conversation about taxes by another noble.

Slim was both surprised and relieved when he glimpsed Razz, dressed in elegant finery, relaxing by a fire. His brother looked bored at first, but lit up when the other lordling, Blue, came to his side.

A part of Slim seethed, but another was relieved. His brother was being tended to and kept happy. That was enough. Not wanting to interrupt, he kept his distance.

When the dancing started, Slim tried to sneak into a quiet corner, only for Stretch to grab his hand and pull him into a slow dance.

“Lean on me,” Stretch murmured in his ear, “or someone might notice you haven’t been limping all night.”

Slim closed his eyes, fighting hard to hide his panic.

“Relax,” Stretch cooed, a laugh in his voice. And surprisingly, Slim did, leaning into him further. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Slim prayed to every god and star that, just this once, it wasn’t a lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have you guessed whats up yet?  
> because Stretch knows~


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No rest for anyone. Except for Razz. 'Cause he hasn't got a job anymore.

The morning after the festival, Razz was up much earlier than he’d expected. After washing his face with a wet cloth, he made his way outside. The sun was too bright for his tired eyes, and he was forced to hold up a hand to shadow them while he walked. When he’d woken up, his brother had already left. The same had happened for a couple days; now he assumed it was because Slim apparently worked for Lord Stretch? It had been a surprise to find out, for sure. Why his brother hadn’t told him, he still didn’t know. Both had been too tired to talk the evening before.

In the distance, he could hear metal clashing. People grunting and yelling. Raising an eyebrow, he walked over toward the courtyard, and found that the castle’s knights were already sparring. Impressive, he had to admit. Razz was surprised to see it; more than one of them had been quite drunk the night before. Among those on the huge, paved yard were the lord’s sons. He could see Stretch, but his gaze immediately went to Blue. The lordl was grinning as his sword danced with his opponents. Their movements were quick, smooth, elegant. _Mesmerizing_.

Razz just stood there, watching him move. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen Blue fight, yet he didn’t think he’d ever realized just how _good_ the other was. As a commoner, he knew next to nothing about sword fighting - the sword was the noble's weapon after all - yet he understood that. His soul pounded in his chest as he watched. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. Neither of the fighters were using shields. Only their weapons protected them. The morning was already blazing hot, and sweat dripped down their faces. Yet, Blue moved swiftly, as though completely unbothered.

Eventually, though, he caught sight of a familiar face nearby the trees decorating the courtyard. Slightly unwillingly, he tore his eyes away from Blue and made his way over toward his older brother. Slim smiled when he saw him.

“Hiya, bro,” he said, rising from his lean against the tree. Above them, a bird left it quickly. Razz smiled back, relieved to see that the other was in a good mood. Slim had never liked working, so it had been weird to find out the other had gotten one. Even weirder to find it was as Lord Stretch’s page – he knew how much his brother detested the upper class. Which, admittedly, was fair. The nobility and their taxation of their subjects had given them nothing but sorrow. Before now, that is.

“Good morning,” Razz replied, feeling himself relax. No one was watching them now. If anyone came out here, their focus would be on the fighters, not the lordlings’ guests, if that even was the right way to describe them. Subconsciously, he straightened. “How long have you been awake?”

As on cue, Slim yawned. “Since fuckin’ dawn. His lordliness really likes ta drag me outta bed at unholy hours. Says that if he has ta suffer, so do I.”

Nodding, Razz sat down on the soft grass. He was soon joined by his brother. With a content sigh, he leaned against the taller, and an arm embraced him lightly. It was comfortable, safe. Living in the castle was exhausting, honestly. To always be on his best, most polite behaviour. The disgusted gazes few of the nobles and even servants bothered to hide. At least when Blue wasn’t with him; those times they were incredibly polite. Far _too_ polite.

So just sitting down with his brother, the monster who’d raised him after their parents died from the flu, was a relief. Nevertheless, he had things he wanted to know. He turned up his gaze, studying Slim. “When did you even start working for him? As a _page_? And _why_?”

Beneath his head, he could feel Slim shrugging. The motion was careless. Razz could easily see the way his fingers scratched his palm, though. Like he always did when there was something he didn’t want to tell him. Or when he was hiding something. He doubted Slim knew that he knew of this little quirk.

“Well, ya know,” his brother replied, an easy grin covering his face. “Gotta do something wi’ my days. Even I can get tired o’ bein’ lazy. An’ th’ lordling pays well fer helpin’ him play pranks. I do love pranks, as ya know.”

Eyeing him sceptically, Razz shrugged, deciding to let it go. Obviously the other wasn’t telling him something. But he’d tell him when he was ready. It could hardly be _that_ important. They fell silent as they watched the knights train. Neither of them had ever been ones for small talk, even if Blue’s presence basically forced him to it. Both because it was the polite thing to do, and because lately he had found himself _wanting_ to hear Blue talk. It was strange.

The noble brothers were face to face now. Quite a few of the knights had dropped out of the exercise, their pages and squires helping them off with the probably scolding hot leather armours they wore while sparring. Those two, however, showed no sign of tiring. Their swords met, giving away a loud metallic noise which rang over the courtyard. A stablehand stopped to stare on the other side of it. Razz stared, enchanted.

He remembered when he was little, when their parents were still alive. They’d gone to a tournament once; used up their last coins for it. Ever since, he’d loved to watch soldiers fight. When he was young, he dreamed of learning. Then he realized that someone like him never would, and had gone into medicine instead, when a wise woman had offered to teach him, and room them.

They watched as Stretch’s sword was finally wrestled out of his hand, and how he froze as Blue’s sword tip pointed at his chest. Grinning, the younger lord held up his fingers in surrender, and Blue lowered his weapon. The battle was over. Both were dripping in sweat as they made their way over toward their equipment.

With a sigh, Slim rose. “Welp. Duty calls, I guess.”

When they reached the other side of the courtyard, squires were already unbuckling the lords’ armour clasps. Blue let out a tired laugh as he spotted Razz, waving eagerly. Without even a greeting, Slim handed Stretch a water bottle, which he quickly downed.

“Razz!” Blue cheerfully exclaimed as he allowed a servant to wipe sweat away from his now bare arms. “Did you watch?”

“I did, m’lord,” Razz replied, unable to help the smile on his face. “You are very skilled.”

Blue’s face lit up even more at the praise, almost as though he probably didn’t hear the same thing every day. The joy in the expression made Razz’s soul flutter slightly. It made him want to scowl at himself. This stupidity served no one well. Blue was a noble. Not quite on the top of the aristocratic hierarchy, but close. Razz? He was a nobody. Not that those thoughts meant anything. Not. At. All.

Still, he couldn’t keep himself from smiling. Even if it left a somewhat sour taste in his mouth to watch his brother serve the other lord; his brother who had never taken any shit. Nonetheless, he supposed this was a good thing. That it was a good thing that Slim had found such a job. Even if he certainly was far too old to be a page. Almost twenty years too old.

“Father’s really a slave-driver,” he heard Stretch tell Slim, who absentmindedly nodded, “who makes us get out again directly after a feast.”

“Come, walk with me,” Blue invited him once the squires and pages were done with him. Nodding, Razz followed. They talked about the battle until they reached the herb garden, whereupon he stopped. Blue turned to watch him, tilting his head in confusion.

Suddenly, Razz said, “I’d like to work again, m’lord.”

He hadn’t even thought about it, but when he said it he realized it was true. Going idle had been nice for a while, since he’d rarely had had a chance to it before, but he was starting to get restless. When Blue gave him an even more confused gaze, he elaborated, “Even my brother has gotten himself a job. He hates working. While I- I’ve never been someone to enjoy being unoccupied.”

Slowly, Blue nodded. “I suppose I can relate to that. You said you were an herb healer? And that is why they accused you of being a witch?”

Razz flinched at the reminder, but nodded. The soft breeze caressed their bones as they started to slowly walk again, and the sun blazed even hotter. His sturdy boots – quality leather ones Blue had insisted on giving him despite his protests – made the walk over the gravel walk comfortable.

“Well,” the other finally said, and Razz’s soul skipped a beat in anxiety and hope. “I think that could be arranged. Perhaps the servants would like a new healer – no offense, but I highly doubt the knights would be willing to go to you, even if I am sure you are a most talented healer.”

Unable to help it, Razz snorted. Of course they wouldn’t. Which fit him well; he had no wish to treat those assholes. He’d rather let them die, but then he’d probably get executed for it. No, the servants would be much better. Then he grinned widely, bowing his head in gratitude.

“Now then,” Blue changed the subject, grabbing Razz’s hand. “I’ve got something to show you!”

* * *

A shiver travelled down Razz’s spine as they made their way down into the castle’s dungeons. Water dripped from the stone ceiling and he could hear rat feet over the floor. The deeper down they got, the colder it became. It was lucky Blue had borrowed him a coat. Even so close to Midsummer, it was fucking cold down here. Their footsteps echoed through the empty caverns.

He had no idea what the hell they were doing here.

The only life they met were two guards, and the jailer, who saluted their commander’s son. Otherwise it seemed completely empty. Blue was still holding his hand, and it was sending electric sparks up his arm. Which was ridiculous; it was completely platonic, of course.

When they turned around a corner, he suddenly heard something. Moaning, perhaps? It certainly sounded like people. Frowning, he turned to stare questioningly at Blue. The lord only grinned back. Then, they rounded another corner, and he froze.

His soul was in his throat as he stared at the scene in front of him. In three of the cells, about twenty of the villagers sat. They’d all been there _that_ day. His ears whizzed and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. Then, Blue squeezed his hand gently, and the slight panic disappeared.

“It took a good while to find the right suspects,” Blue said quietly. He looked pleased, even as he showed concern. “But they need to be punished. According to the law, one needs permission from the county’s lord – my father – to execute someone, and they had not even applied for it. Nor did they ever go through with a trial – but you know that.”

He smiled. As innocent as he seemed sometimes, it suddenly became very clear to Razz that he had been prepared to rule from a young age. The smile was determined, full of a complete certainty that this was the right thing to do. “Father has chosen me to their judge, and I wondered, do you have any suggestions on what I should do with them?”

For a short moment, Razz was speechless. He stared at Blue, and then at the prisoners. His neighbours since childhood. Many of them had been his friends growing up. They were staring at him in wide-eyed fear. Then, a grin slowly grew on his face. “Thank you m’lord. I certainly do.”

That sweet, sweet revenge was close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my opinion, this fic needed a little sibling-interaction as well. And Razz and Slim needed revenge.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into Stretch’s mind, his thoughts and feelings, and most importantly, his fears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because i wanted to hear from the little lordling

“Father’s really a slave-driver,” Stretch said, wiping sweat from his brow with the hand still desperately clutching the flask of water. Blue had seriously put him through his paces. Like always, he had pushed him just a little harder, a little faster, than Stretch was really comfortable going. Trying to make him better, trying to make him try.

Stretch appreciated the thought, but he couldn’t say he was interested. Blue was the warrior between them. If Stretch needed to strike someone down, he would shoot them and be done with it. 

Slim nodded absentmindedly, paying less attention to Stretch than he was to his brother’s retreating form. Slim wasn’t the easiest monster to read (one of the hardest, actually), but Stretch didn’t need his talent for reading people to know what was going on in his head: The moment Slim had spent together with Razz had been far too short for the brothers’ liking. It was something Stretch could empathize with intimately.

“Who makes us get out again directly after a feast?” Stretch continued, tossing the flask into the pile of the rest of his things haphazardly.

Slim shrugged. Stretch only just bit back an annoyed huff. He was starting to think he was going about this all wrong. He wanted to gain Slim’s trust, his loyalty. He tried bonding through shared interests, through understanding, through common beliefs, through the mundane and the profound.

Nothing worked.

Not to the degree Stretch wanted, needed.

“Guess it’s hard to care about anything so early in the morning,” Stretch quipped, grin playing at his face. He gestured at himself. “Help me out of this armor?”

Slim’s response was immediate, but unenthusiastic. For a guy who supposedly spent his entire life in a backwater village, he knew his way around armor and weapons surprisingly well. Stretch had lucked out in so many ways when his brother brought these guys home.

He wasn’t about to squander this chance.

Stretch caught sight of Theodor from across the way, his expression hateful as it landed on Slim. Stretch had to fight hard to keep his own face neutral. It made him a little nauseous when he saw how Theodor’s face changed to sickeningly worshipful when it fell upon himself.

Stretch hated it. He was the second son. Why all these utter buffoons flocked to him, instead of his brother, was a mystery he would never understand. Stretch went out of his way to emphasize his faults; making mischief, skipping out on his duties, dressing as slovenly as his father would let him get away with... and still, _still_ , they all came to him.

Why could nobody see what an amazing lord Blue was going to be? Already was?

Just because Blue could see the good in this world didn’t make him naive. What he had in their dungeons right now was proof enough of that.

Stretch idly wondered if Blue had decided what to do with those villagers yet as Slim pulled off the last piece of his training armor. Stretch rolled his stiff, aching shoulders gratefully, sighing with relief.

He had just sat down when a messenger boy ran up to him, holding out a roll of parchment.

Stretch almost took it out of reflex, but changed the motion to a gesture at Slim.

Slim caught the movement, like he always did. This guy was observant, intelligent, talented and resourceful: everything Stretch needed. But he still didn’t know the full extent of his capabilities. Slim seemed to purposely hold back, hide what he could do. Stretch could understand that to a certain degree (if Slim went around flaunting some of his more exotic tricks, he wouldn’t have survived this long — not everyone was as accepting as Stretch, or as desperate), but there were perfectly mundane skills he hid that Stretch needed to know, to calculate into his plans.

It was a testament to just how desperate he was that Stretch was hinging everything on the skillset of one person (not counting himself).

So Stretch had begun tricking information out of Slim, little things here and there. Over the few weeks he’s observed Slim he’s found out about his talent for finding shortcuts. That had been hard to figure out: if Stretch hadn’t been paying such close attention he never would have noticed. Slim’s propensity for rapid recovery had been a surprise he wouldn’t have discovered either if he hadn’t seen just how deep that wolf bite had been. Slim was also observant, both of his surroundings and the behavior of those around him. Stretch knew for a fact he was picking up on the hostility Stretch’s fans held for him, although whether or not he understood the why was up in the air.

Now was a perfect chance to try another trick.

Slim set the armor piece he had been cleaning lazily down, coming over to where Stretch sat humbly, only the slight twitch of his fingers betraying his unease. Stretch gestured to the parchment still in the messenger’s hands. “Unroll that and hold it up for me, would you?” he asked, adding a pathetic whining quality to his natural exhaustion and breathlessness.

Slim (with a badly concealed eyelight roll) took the message, looking at Stretch one more time for confirmation before carefully breaking the wax seal and unfurling the parchment.

If he hadn’t been focusing so intently on Slim’s face, Stretch might have missed the twitch of his jaw, and the way his eyelights jittered and bounced, might have missed the shadow of a flicker of comprehension (and fear) on his face.

It was all Stretch needed to know: Slim could read (at least a little).

Slim’s composure returned in a fraction of a second, the moment of vulnerable openness so fast that Stretch doubted anyone else would have seen it to begin with. Slim turned the paper carefully, expression now impassive and somewhat bored, as he carefully held it for Stretch to read.

Stretch realized what had upset his companion so much: the message was from Stretch’s dad, informing him that Stretch was going to have a visit from his fiancée, the lady Muffet from the neighboring fiefdom.

_Why it was that their father had made an arranged marriage for Stretch before he had for Blue, he would never know._

~~It might have had something to do with how Blue managed to win that one logical argument over dinner, when his father had listed the many eligible suitors, and Blue had systematically refuted each one with such logic and passion that their father had slunk into his room like a beaten dog. Meanwhile, Stretch had been too young and too awkward to argue when the match had been presented, unable to see anything wrong with the spider... until now.~~

~~What an absolute fool he had been, accepting this arrangement.~~

Muffet was the last person Stretch wanted coming here.

It took all of Stretch’s willpower not to reach out and rip the paper to shreds. He stood up, grinding his teeth to keep from releasing a string of ungentlemanly expletives. Slim raised a bone brow, but thankfully continued his usual silence.

Another thing Stretch liked about Slim, he kept his mouth shut. Stretch might know how to play the game but he certainly didn’t enjoy mindless chatter (unless it was with Blue).

Stretch waved his hand, a curt command for Slim to follow. Slim rolled up the message and fell in step behind him, leaving the armor to be picked up by an eager youth (Chara, if Stretch remembered right. They had been the one who performed all the page’s duties for Stretch before. Stretch made a mental note to send a thank you. The kid liked chocolate.) 

Stretch was far too irritated to appreciate the cool air of the castle, his stride purposeful and posture more upright than his usual slouch. In the back of his mind he noted how Slim responded to the change in his demeanor, how he tensed and hung back further than usual.

Stretch’s main concern, however, was what to do now. He still had no proof. No proof, and nobody who would believe him. Even he had to admit that it sounded like a conspiracy theory. But still, his bones itched that he was right, and that he needed to do something.

Thats why he needed Slim.

But now Stretch was running out of time.

Perhaps he should just try the direct approach after all, lay his case bare and... and ask for help.

 _Fuck, why didn’t he do that in the first place?_ Stretch berated himself silently. He had been dealing with nobility and their subversive ways for so long he had forgotten how to act like a normal monster.

Another thing his brother was better at, another reason he was amazing and cool and so much more worthy of their inheritance than him.

Another reason to protect him at all costs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DRAMA~  
> Oh my whats going on here~?  
> Shades of Game of Thrones maybe?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, the last scene gets a bit graphic. So beware for that. I did my best to keep it relatively safe though. There's death.

After drenching a clean cloth in alcohol, Razz wiped it over the bloody top of the kitchen assistant’s finger. She whimpered but was otherwise quiet. Impressing, seeing how much it must hurt. It wasn’t bleeding anymore, so once he had cleaned it he only had to wrap it up and she was fine to go. Not exactly a complicated procedure. It was mostly this he’d been doing since Blue offered him the job as a castle healer, and while it wasn’t challenging it was better than nothing. Outside the window, the rain smattered against the window. It had been raining non-stop for hours. The fireplace crackling in the corner was the only thing which kept the room reasonably warm.

In the same moment he finished wrapping the cut off fingertip up, it knocked on the door. He called for whoever it was to come in, and the door squeaked when it slid open. No matter how much he oiled it nothing happened. Apparently, he was destined to have a squeaky door in his ‘clinic’. Razz looked up from the table holding his herbs as someone stepped in. A smile lit up his face.

“Brother!” he greeted, nodding as he went to wash off his hands. The water in the small copper jar was cold when he rubbed away the smell of alcohol off them. Slim raised a hand in greeting, staying by the door until he was invited in. Then he took the kitchen assistant’s place when Razz sent her on her way. “What are you doing here?”

“Th’ lordling’s in a meeting with his father,” Slim replied casually. His mouth was tilted upwards into a small smirk, however. Apparently this amused him. “Somethin’ ‘bout a fiancée? He ain’t lookin’ too happy ‘bout it. Been whining fer days. So once I finished cleanin’ ‘is armour I came right here.”

Yeah, there was definitely glee in his voice as he said that. Raising an eyebrow, Razz made his way over. He crossed his arms. “Shouldn’t you be grateful Lord Stretch gave you a job if you so dearly wanted one?”

A hand rubbed his head and he spluttered. That got a chuckle out of his brother. “I am, lil’ bro. But one’s gotta complain ‘bout one’s employer too, huh?”

“Not really.” But he smiled as he said it, and sighed in exasperation. Older as Slim may be, sometimes Razz wondered who really was the big brother here. Even if Slim had raised him, it certainly felt like it was the other way around sometimes. Ah well. That was how Slim was, and he wouldn’t want it any other way. “How long have you got?”

The other threw a glance out the window. It was more instinct than anything, probably, because it did not give much. The dark sky gave no indication on what time of day it was. The rain kept falling outside. After realizing this, Slim turned to the hourglass by the fireplace instead. “Ten minutes? That armour was really fuckin’ dirty. He must’ve rolled ‘round in a mud pit with it on.”

Which wasn’t too unlikely. Lord af Springs sent his sons and knights out for training in any weather, and the past days had been rainier than any other time Razz could remember. The only time they weren’t out was when the lightening came, since that would’ve been suicide. Razz nodded, untying his medical apron, and hanging it on its hook. He opened the door, gesturing for his brother to follow.

“Come with me and get something to eat then,” he said, stepping outside. The noise of his boot meeting the floor echoed through the empty stairwell. For some reason the noble family had had a lower tower standing empty, so he had been given it for his clinic. It wasn’t too high, it only took about two minutes of brisk walk down to the upper level. The one where the lord, his wife and their sons themselves lived.

Slim quietly followed him downstairs, to the second highest level. That was where the kitchen was, just by the great dinner hall. While they walked, Razz happily chatted about work and about the rat he’d found in his bedroom this morning. He’d sent one of the castle’s many cats after it, of course. When he mentioned Blue and how he was invited down on the archery range later, though, Slim stopped walking for the briefest of moment.

At first, Razz didn’t notice, and before he could react his brother had already caught up with him. He blinked at Slim, whose gaze suddenly seemed to see straight through him. A shiver travelled up his spine. Then and there, it felt like he was eleven years old again and caught with his hand in the caramel jar before dinner.

Before he could ask ‘what’, Slim’s eyes narrowed before turning back to their normal size as they continued to walk. “Ya seem awfully fond of the young lord, bro. Ya know not ta get too attached, right? They’re nobility. And we’re hardly more than serves by birth, even if Sarai taught ya herbs an’ healin’.”

“Of course I do,” Razz replied curtly. Despite the confidence in his words, he felt his soul drop at the reminder. He wasn’t stupid. He knew he didn’t belong her, and he absolutely didn’t belong by Blue’s side. Any day now Blue would realize it too.

He pushed the thought into the corner of his mind. Yes, it would happen. But he _wasn’t_ getting too involved. Blue was simply a friend, that is all. One he’d lose one day. No matter how only the reminder of Blue was enough to make him smile. Make his chest feel warmer. It was nothing. _They_ were nobodies.

Slim didn’t seem fully convinced, but nodded nonetheless. “Good,” was all he said as the door to the kitchen appeared behind a corner. Inside the kitchen the activity was frantic, as always. Tons of dishes were being cleaned after dinner, and supper as well as afternoon tea was already being prepared. Chatter and yells and the clinking of pots was a constant white noise, together with the crackling noise of the huge hearth over which a pig was slowly being grilled.

Very few paid attention to them when they stepped in. A few irate glances were thrown at Slim, but he didn’t seem to mind. Because of course he didn’t.  Razz received a few smiles, though, both from former patients and people he’d just talked with, even if no one took the time to talk. Probably because if they did, the flour-covered head cook would smack them with her huge wooden spoon.

Ducking around the frantic activity, the brothers navigated through the frantic activity. The head cook glared but didn’t say something as Razz fished up two loaves of bread from a basket, handing one to Slim. The matron of the kitchen wasn’t too fond of people just stealing food, but she rarely said anything. Razz suspected she actually _didn’t_ mind, but put up a show of disgruntlement. Most who did was hungry, and if there was one thing she disliked it was people going hungry. He had quickly learnt that much after arriving here.

They slid down in a pair of wooden chairs in a calmer corner of the kitchen. Here were only a few staff-members who were kneading bread dough. They seemed to be deeply concentrated on their work. He relaxed back in the chair, biting down on the loaf. It was still warm, and melted in his mouth. _God_ , not even Sarai’s food was as good as this, and she was the one who taught him to cook. And heal, and honestly everything he knew which his brother hadn’t taught him.

Neither of them spoke much, it was too loud in here, but Razz felt calmer just being alone with his brother for a while. Without either of the lords around. They were good people, for nobility, but it was still somewhat exhausting. Slim seemed tired, he noticed. Or sleepy, perhaps. Tired was too strong a word. Razz might have to ask Blue to ask Lord Stretch to let his brother sleep some more. Neither Slim nor Lord Stretch seemed to need a lot of it, much less than Razz for sure, but still. He could still be sleep-deprived.

Just as he was debating with himself over whether to tell Slim about the upcoming execution or not – should it be a surprise? – the kitchen door slammed open. Razz jumped in his chair. At his side, Slim twisted around to see, even if few members of the staff reacted. Likely they were too used to it.

“There you are!” Lord Stretch called out, giving Slim a reproachful gaze as he marched over to them. Razz bowed his head in greeting. Since he was sitting, he couldn’t bow. He would’ve stood up to do so if the lordling hadn’t seemed to quite dislike the action. Slim, on the other hand, sighed quietly before he met Lord Stretch’s eyes. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Couldn’t ya just’ve sent a servant, m’lord?” Slim asked, raising an eyebrow. He showed no signs of rising from his chair.

Lord Stretch blinked. Then he huffed. “Well. I could have. But I didn’t think of it. Anyway, Blue pointed out that I haven’t properly paid you for your work. Although you are not nobility – nor a child – it _is_ custom to reward a page’s good service with education. I assume you have none.”

Excitement flashed through Razz as he heard the noble’s words, and he sat straighter. Quickly, he caught his brother’s eyes, nodding subtly. God yes. He couldn’t possibly say no to whatever that would include. The corner of Lord Stretch’s mouth twitched. “So if you’re interested, we’ll begin with horse-riding tomorrow at dawn. Get you riding like a blue-blooded. Or, well, almost. You’re still a commoner, after all.”

“I’ll think ‘bout ‘t,” Slim replied, causing Razz to roll his eyes. For fuck’s sake. But of course his brother would take the opportunity, even as he acted casual about it. Anything that would make Razz’s life better, Slim would do. It was hard not to grimace at the comment about their social standing, though. Honestly. Plus, he wasn’t sure what their birth had to do with his brother’s ability to become a good rider. Back in the village, one of the richer farms had two horses and their children were all excellent riders.

Lord Stretch only shrugged, and jerked his head toward the door. “Whatever you wish. Now come on, I need your help.”

“O’ course, m’lord.” He stood, petting Razz’s head once. “See ya, bro.”

Waving, Razz watched them leave. Once they had, he sighed and got up. Well, no use to stay here now. He’d had his food. He threw a glance out the small window. It was still raining, although not as heavily. Down on the yard, he could see a small group of light-dressed knights make their way toward the range. Among them was Blue.

He shrugged. Might as well join them. He _had_ been invited after all.

* * *

Drenched, he watched the arrows fly. They hit the target in quick order. _Thump thump thump_. Not in the Bull’s Eye, but all within the second ring. Not bad at all. In the corner of his eye, Razz saw Blue lower the bow with a grimace. They were both shivering as their eyes met.

“Damn it,” Blue swore, thumbing at the string. “My brother is much better with a bow than me. Unacceptable. I mean, I’m glad he’s such a good archer. But it’s still annoying. He’s my _little_ brother.”

Snorting, Razz flexed his fingers. They were stiff despite the season. He was regretting not taking a thicker coat. “It looks good to me, m’lord.”

“I’ve got a _name_ , Razz. Use it.” Despite the roll of his eyes when he said that, he grinned as they made their way over to check and fetch the arrows. Under them, the wet grass splashed, loud in the otherwise quiet area. They could’ve had servants do it, but Blue hadn’t seen a reason to drag them out in the rain. Indeed, he was unusually kind for someone with almost blue blood. When they reached the target, he eyed the arrows sceptically. They were buried deeply in it. While his aim wasn’t perfect, there was no denying Blue was incredibly strong for his size. “But thank you.”

Everything was quiet for a moment as Blue yanked out the arrows. The only thing to be heard was the rain and the noise of the other nobles’ shooting. A few waterdrops tickled Razz’s face. It was oddly peaceful. Suddenly, a grin grew on the other’s face, making his soul skip a beat as Blue turned to him. His eyes shone through the rain.

“Would you like to learn?” Blue asked, waving an arrow around. Instinctively, Razz took a step back from the sharp arrow-head. “To shoot, that is.”

His eyes widened at the other’s words, and he felt his mouth fall open slightly. In his chest, his soul started to race and Razz nodded eagerly. For that, he was rewarded with a laugh. When they left the target behind, they stopped much closer to it than from where Blue had shot before and Blue helped him put on the glove and the armguard.

His feet were positioned, and then Blue handed him the bow. Electrical tingles shot through him as the other placed himself behind him, chest pressed against his back. Razz swallowed, attempting to concentrate as Blue showed him how to hold the bow, but it was hard. The other’s chest was warm against his back even through their clothes. Although he’d always wanted to learn to use a weapon, any weapon, he had to bite his tongue to keep himself from leaning into the other. It stung.

“Well, see, you hold it like this,” Blue murmured in his ear, gesturing his grip on the bow. Razz coughed, nodding toward the knights. Luckily, they all seemed too focused on their own weapons to realize what their future lord was doing. Chuckling. “Don’t worry about them. They’re all my most trusted subordinates.”

He nodded mutely, and Razz’s soul pounded in his chest as Blue’s cold hands covered his.

By the gods.

It was undeniable. He was in love.

 _Oh_ _fuck_.

* * *

The rains had ended, and the sun shone brightly on the blue sky. A few fluffy clouds floated above. A warm, gentle breeze caressed Razz’s bones as he excitedly left the castle behind. The gravelled road leading away from it was dry and the carriage behind him dragged up clouds of brown dust. A quiet moaning came from there, but none of its passengers dared speak. In front of him the lordly brothers rode, since both had decided to come, and at his side his brother was still looking a little dazed.

The day of the execution was here.

 His steps felt light as they briskly walked toward Gallows’ Hill nearby, where his attempted murderers would hang. The expression on Slim’s face as he dragged the other out on the castle yard only to see the tied-up villagers being loaded up on the frail carriage was still replaying in his mind. Glorious. It had been the best thing Razz had ever seen. It had been hard to not tell him earlier, but oh had it been worth it. The incomprehension, then the disbelief, which once he saw Blue on his horse, wearing Springs’ official emblem on his mantle was exchanged for pure, sadistic glee. He didn’t ever want to forget it.

In the distance, the hills – because despite the name there were actually three – with their gallows, pillories, and a couple torture devices he couldn’t name – revealed themselves. His soul fluttered in excitement. _Revenge_. The single word echoed in his mind, twisting his mouth into a gloating grin. This day would be the best in his life this far, by far passing the day they’d been taken in by Sarai two years after their parents’ death.

Terrified whimpers came from the carriage. Satisfaction filled Razz. Quite a long time had passed, and he still woke up in cold sweat, images of drowning flashing before his eyes. His brother’s screams in his ears. He still couldn’t bear to take a bath. Just the thought of it made him seize up in panic, unable to breathe. It was all their doing. And now. Now they knew how it felt when you knew you were going to die. You were going to get remorselessly killed.

Righteously, in their case. In difference to him, they had broken the law. Razz’s grin stretched wider. The horse dragging the carriage snorted loudly as they made their way uphill. To their deaths. Unfortunately, while Blue had taken suggestions from Razz he hadn’t allowed him to decide their punishments entirely. Which was unsurprising, but still a shame.

The other didn’t have the same taste for suffering as Razz did. He would’ve chosen the breaking wheel, or flaying, or something similar. As gruesome as it was to watch, it certainly had been the party of the year when the nearby city – that is, Springs City – had someone executed by pendulum. A traitor, if he remembered right. People travelled from far and close. He’d been young then, and Slim had taken him. They’d bought sugary almonds and candy apples from the street stands put up for the show for money they didn't actually have. Just to treat themselves for once.

Even now, the hill was crowded. The spectators parted to allow the entourage to pass through. Excited chattering and laughter came from them, and the sweet smell of sugar was thick in the air. Executions were rare, and no one wanted to miss them. A festival in the public’s boring day-to-day lives.

A murmur of anticipation rose as their lord’s sons placed themselves in front of the crowd. Blue straightened, and the sunlight washed over him and his blue roan horse. A trumpet solo played, signalling for everyone to be quiet.

“I am Blue af Springs, future lord of Springs,” he declared loudly, solemnly. Beneath him, the horse trampled impatiently but didn’t try to move from its spot. “Today, my father has given me the responsibility to act as judge for these criminals.” He gestured toward the villagers, whom guards were leading of the carriage. “They attempted to illegally execute – and thereby murder – their village healer by drowning him. No trial was held beforehand, nor did they search permission to carry through an execution. They have been deemed guilty. For their crimes, the penalty is death.”

The cheering was almost deafening. Joining in, Razz clapped his hands so hard they burned. At his side, Slim’s yells were positively sanguinary. Their eyes glowed in the daylight. Blue waited patiently for it to die down before he continued to speak. “The method of execution is hanging. However, to clearly demonstrate that this behaviour won’t be tolerated, three of them will be chosen by draw to receive fifteen lashes beforehand.”

It was a compromise they’d agreed on. Razz wanted blood, and Blue wanted justice. Plus, it was Blue’s first official trial; it was better to dish out a bit too much than a bit too little, lest anyone thought he’d be a weak ruler when the time came. The drawing was arranged, and the village baker, one of the farmers, and the smith’s (adult) son were tied to the pillories. When a guard each was assigned to them, carrying whips, Razz laughed. He had made sure to stand at the front of the crowd, and with crossed arms he leaned against his brother as he met the baker’s grey eyes. They were wide, horrified. Pleading. Their face was deathly pale. His grin widened.

Soon, the sound of whips swishing through the air and the screams of their victims rang out. The crowd was wild, pulsing with exhilaration. It was like a living thing in itself. By the gallows, the lucky losers of the drawing seemed like they were all about to faint. Slim squeezed his hand, and they shared a victorious gaze. It felt good.

So much of their lives, they’d been forced to rely on the mercy of those people. So much of their lives, they’d known that if the villagers got tired of them, they wouldn’t stand a chance at survival. They’d been completely dependent first on the work their parents could get, and then Slim could get, until Sarai. More than one of them had taken full advantage of that. He could still remember Slim coming home to their croft, flushed in humiliation or drowned in mud, refusing to speak about it no matter how much he begged. The one consolation was that he didn't think anyone had gone past menial tasks. Nothing too scarring.

So when the sound of thin ropes against flesh reached his ears, and those screams, it was like music.

Once the fifteen lashes had been given, it was three bloodied villagers who were released. The baker and the farmer both had to be supported by the guards to be able to walk to the gallows. Up on his horse, Blue looked almost a little green, and so did Stretch, but he did nothing but nod when the guards sent him a questioning glance.

The executioner in his black hood calmly placed the ropes around all their necks. Everything was silent. Only the creaking of the wooden gallows in the breeze made a sound. It was like the crowd was holding its breath.

Then.

“Let them hang,” Blue simply said. At his command, the executioner triggered the trapdoors. The floor gave in beneath the condemned. Almost simultaneously, multiple loud _crack_ s echoed over the silent hill as the villagers’ necks were broken. A humane death. It could’ve taken so much longer. As the sound died out, there was a loud gasp.

Thereafter, it was like a monster had been woken. The roars and cheers rising from the crowd were the loudest thing Razz had ever seen, hurting his ears. His soul soared as he watched the corpses slowly swing in the wind, and a low chuckle came from beside him.

“The little lord is tougher than I thought,” Slim commented quietly, making Razz elbow him. Even then, neither could stop smiling.

“Well of course, brother. He’s going to rule,” he replied, turning to watch Blue. His face was a controlled mask, revealing nothing. Gratitude swelled inside him, and his almost overwhelming urge to kiss the lord grew. Ever since he came to _that_ realization, he’d avoided Blue, just a little. Kept a slightly greater distance than before. These feelings were just making things complicated. For now, Razz ignored them. Instead he turned back to Slim, eyes shining. “Now then. How do you feel about some sweets to celebrate?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, fun fact, I actually held a 15 min ted talk on "Humanity's Fascination with Public Executions" in class - because I have weird interests - and more fun facts, public executions have historically very much not been a solemn occasion. They were actually the party of the year and everyone loved them. In fact, when a famous criminal was executed the crowds sometimes got so big that people literally died in them trying to get a glance of the condemned, or even better; see the killing itself. Truly the spectacle of a lifetime.  
> Furthermore, when the first guillotine execution happened during the French Revolution, the crowd was shocked over the quick, painless death. And they weren't happy. They wanted blood and yelled for the authorities to "give them back their wooden gallows!"  
> This is still something of a phenomenon today. [Here's a real TED Talk on the subject](https://www.ted.com/talks/frances_larson_why_public_beheadings_get_millions_of_views) if anyone's interested.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is actually entirely by DandelionSea but due to their lack of computer-access I (Odd) am posting it instead!

_“Those are some nice pearls you wear.”_

_Razz stopped in his tracks, a hand around the necklace his mother had left to him when she died. Technically, there was only a single pearl on the chain - a gift from his father who’s family had been fishermen by trade. It had been on Razz’s neck since they day they died, and he had never had any intention of losing it._

_“Thank you, sir,” Razz said, removing all traces of trepidation from his voice as he spoke. The smith was one of the wealthiest men in the village, retiring from the capitol in his later years for reasons the village still speculates. From his drinking habits and temper many suspect that he was run out, though it was just as likely that he simply got fed up with everyone there and decided to find a new town to burden with his presence. Regardless, he had employed Slim and gave him more than a fair cut of the commision. Razz’s family owed a lot to him, and he would never forget it. “Slim sent me to retrieve his purse - he forgot it this afternoon.”_

_The smith rose, the wobble in his stance confirming Razz’s suspicion of his intoxication. “Pearls like that don’t belong on some common woman.”_

_“I am not a woman, sir,” Razz reminded him, inching towards the table where Razz could already see his brother’s sack. “And these pearls were my mothers. They belong to me now.”_

_The smith scoffed, snarling as he moved forward. “Be careful how you speak to me, peasant - it’s not like anyone would take notice if some presumptuous orphan went missing.” He moved suddenly, hands slamming into the wall behind Razz, effectively trapping him there._

_Razz swallowed hard_

* * *

Razz walks alone through the dim cordiors, fingers pressed tightly into the spaces between his phalanges. His bare feet clack against the stone passageways, radiating ominous tones through the otherwise silent halls. At night, there are few servants moving about - Razz has only seen the one who came to his room not five minutes prior to wake him.

_“The young lord Blue has requested your presence in his bedchamber”_

The words still ring through his mind. Blue requested his presence, in the middle of the night, in his _bedroom_. Razz had debated waking his brother, at the very least to let him know where Razz had gone at such an odd hour. Slim could wake and panic if Razz wasn’t there - though more likely he would go back to sleep and worry in the morning.

Of course, that wasn’t the only reason Razz wanted his brother to know where he was.

_The festival was still roaring on; the execution had been merely the centerpiece of the festivities - there were still musicians on the streets and vendors eager to make quicksilver from the peasants dancing and making merry in the streets. Slim and Razz had decided to walk around in search of the candies they had eaten as children - surely someone was selling them here. It was nice to walk around the streets anyways, as it had been so long since they had been outside of the castle grounds together. After a while of their exhaustive search, the two came to sit together at a bench and talk. They stayed a while there until-_

_“You look adorable when you’re excited.”_

_Razz almost jumped, a handful of roasted nuts he had purchased falling to the ground. Slim glared at the intrusion, though with a small nudge from Razz, he thankfully kept his mouth shut._

_“Thank you, m’lord Blue,” Razz spoke the title they had compromised (though it still felt wrong on his tongue). He bowed his head deeply; the gratitude he felt for everything Blue had done for them would likely never fade. Even Slim gave a small grunt of appreciation - Blue, after all, had openly arranged the whole execution. Razz stood to allow the young noble his seat on the coble bench, however Blue remained standing._

_“I thought perhaps you and I could go for a small walk,” Blue said with a smile. “With the crowds dying down I was hoping to show you some of the view from the city walls.”_

_Razz’s cheeks burned, his already quivering heart soaring. He shouldn’t entertain this fantasy, cut it down before it blossoms into something he can no longer control… but the temptation is just too much. “I would love to,” He said, allowing Blue to take his arm. As they walk off Blue glanced back at his brother, who fixed him with a disapproving stare. Razz shot back a glare of his own - even if this is only for a short time, even if it’s just play and make pretend, he wanted to enjoy this moment._

_Blue walked the two across town, showing Razz the shores of the riverbank. Razz marveled the bridges that Blue’s grandfather commissioned as the lordling told the tale himself. The story itself would have put Razz to sleep in a matter of moments, but the dynamic tones and energy with which Blue spoke took and held Razz’s attention strong._

_“We should leave before sunset,” Blue mused as they walked along the city’s edge. He had purchased a pair of fried rolls for them to munch at as they traveled. “Father will be pleased to hear of how… well the execution went.”_

_Razz could almost giggle at the way Blue’s eyes grew scattered at the mention of the prisoners deaths. It was as if he had never witnessed a public execution before! Though perhaps, being raised within the castle walls, his experience with witnessing suffering could have been very limited._

_“I am sure your father will be proud, M’lord; the citizens sure enjoyed your display,” Razz commented, eating the last of the doughnut. He quickly lapped the last of the sugar off of his fingers before remembering his company, blushing hard as he brought his hands back to the front of his dress. Blue simply laughed._

_“As did you, I saw,” Blue said, stopping before they returned to the city square. The festivities were dying down, most vendors having already packed up and set on their way home. The moment was still as Blue turned to Razz, eyes full of wonder and comity. “It really was worth it to see you smile like that.”_

_Razz’s heart stopped and his eyes blinked once. Time around them slowed as the wind picked up, ruffling Razz’s dress as he became lost in the young lord’s eyes. Blue’s hand touched Razz’s cheek, and he smiled only a second before pressing their teeth together._

 

_It was that moment that Razz realized his mistake._

Because that’s what it was - a mistake.

Razz knows he shouldn’t have allowed that. He shouldn’t have gone off alone with the lord; he, unmarried, unescorted, in the city with a noble who fancies him. It doesn’t matter if Razz returns the feelings or not - because regardless of what Razz wants, feels or needs; Blue _owns_ him now.

Razz halts his steps to place a hand on the wall, quivering to himself. How could he have let himself get so caught up in the fantasy? Like a young lady in a fairytale of banquets and lords and castles, unaware of the dragon in the tower. Blue may be kind and gentle, but he has proven time and time again that his regard for the social order is flimsy at best. He does not partake in the rules that this world has so clearly laid out for him.

Rules such as courting, marriage… really, without such customs what is to stop a man from simply taking what he wants? Blue kissed Razz - _kissed him_. On the mouth. Even if they were of the same standing, there had been no declaration, no formal request for courtship, he simply did it. It may have even been romantic, had Razz been born a noble.

But he wasn’t. Razz was a peasant - no matter what he is and will be a servant to the lords above him. The lives of all commoners are dictated by the whims of the nobles, and what they wanted, the serfs provided. And Blue… Blue wanted Razz.

_“Hold still, you little bitch!!”_

_The insult burned in Razz’s ear like the drunken breath on his neck. Razz was young, and therefore weak - too small to fight against his attacker as he tore at the covated necklace he demanded. Finally craning his neck, Razz was able to sink his teeth into the monster’s hands, his jaw clamping down until he could feel the bone beneath his fangs._

_His brother’s employer roared, giving Razz just enough purchase to scramble back to the wall where the fire burned steadily to his side. He grasped for the fire iron, brandishing it with a growl as he found his feet. The man’s eye glowed in the firelight, ferocity leaking from his very being._

_“You bitch,” He growled, already beginning to lumber forward. “I’ll make sure your brother never works in this town again!!”_

_He charged froward once more, only to be struck back as Razz swung the iron like a club. The man fell to the ground with a sickening thud. Razz dropped the rod, eyes focused on the broken necklace that had become pinned under the larger man. Razz could feel tears in his eyes as he is forced to run, rushing to grab his brother’s forgotten purse before making his escape._

Razz breathes steadily, opening his eyes that had somehow closed themselves. He has to keep moving - the lordling chambers are not far now. Memories from so long ago can’t harm him now; he must continue on now and handle the problems as they arise, not before. Entertaining these horror fantasies serves no one; even less himself.

So Razz treks forward down the winding halls, finally arriving at the chambers of the noble family themselves. Guards stood outside the entrance; they glanced down at Razz before nodding and stepping aside to open the heavy wooden doors. Razz remains stiff as he enters, despite his efforts. At least these doors don’t squeak like dying pheasants when they are opened, and thus the sleeping castle remained just that.

Swallowing down his trepidation, Razz follows the instructions for how to reach Blue’s bedchambers. Quietly, he taps on the wall beside the portal to signal his arrival.

“M’lord?” He calls in hushed tones, just barely managing to keep his voice steady.

A small cough greets him before the horse tones of the lordling voice followed. “Oh! Razz! Yes please come in.”

Razz steps inside, his hands folded neatly as he fought hesitation; entering another’s room in the dead of night is something Razz had done before as a healer many times, however this time he felt awash with muted emotions that served only to make him dizzy and sick with nerves. Regardless, Razz continues in.

“I was told you had called for me, M’lord?” Razz speaks softly. He sets his path for the bed at the center of the room, only to halt when he thinks better than to get too close. “May I ask what for at such an hour?” He says, keeping his accusations out of his tone.

Blue chuckles, coughing once again under the sheets. “I’m sorry to wake you, my friend,” He says, peering up from the mountain of pillows surrounding him. How could one person possibly need so many at once…? “But I couldn’t sleep.”

Razz’s breath hitches, fearing the worst.

“You see, my throat has been sore all night, and I have been kept up coughing since midnight.”

A sigh of relief escapes Razz’s throat before he catches himself. Oh… of course… Razz is the castle healer now, isn’t he? It would make sense for him to be called at night to treat a sudden ailment, even if this one is particularly minor. If it weren’t the lord of the castle Razz doubts he would have been woken for this at all.

“I see, M’lord,” Razz says, stepping closer to the bed. “Have you tried any teas?”

Blue nods. “I always drink some before bed, though it did little to help,” He says, leaning forward. “I was hoping you could take a look and make sure it isn’t something more serious - I would hate to fall ill after visiting town.”

Razz nods, “Naturally, M’lord,” He says, reaching forward before hesitating. “This… will require me to touch you.”

“You have my permission, Doctor,” Blue says in his familiar playful tones. Razz ignores them as his training kicks in. He rests his hand on the lordling forehead and moving to his neck, feeling for a fever or signs of lumps. Thankfully, neither appear in his examination, which rules out the most damning illnesses right away.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a candle and mirror lying around, would you?” Razz asks after a moment. “I would like to check the back of your throat, however moonlight isn’t quite the best lighting for such a search.”

Blue nods, guiding Razz to the small lamp on his bed stand and a hand mirror in his drawer. Razz positions both Blue and the lamp so that he can see inside the other’s mouth. The mirror guides the light so that Razz can examine the other thoroughly.

“Hm… there is a bit of swelling and redness in your throat,” Razz comments. “But no puss or stones; it is likely just a cold or allergies from traveling. Either way the prescription is the same, bedrest and warm liquids.” Razz blows out the lamp and tucks away the mirror where he found it. “I can make some medicinal tea to help with the coughing in the meantime, if you would like.”

“I would,” Blue speaks, sounding just a bit chipper now that he’s been given a clean bill of health. “Thank you, Razz,”

“It is only my duty, M’lord,” Razz says, taking his leave to go prepare the tea for Blue. However before Razz can make it out the door, he is stopped by the sounding of Blue’s voice once more.

“Wait!” Razz halted with his voice, cold dread washing over him once more. Whether Blue was aware or not, he continued. “Before you go, there’s just one more thing I wanted to say…”

* * *

Razz sat at the steps of the castle as the sun rose, the previously shed tears still falling down his face. They cast a golden tint across his features in the morning light; it would be almost beautiful if he could see it, he imagines, like the Beobyrian statues written about in worn texts. He feels like one of those statues - hollow and cold.

Very soon the servants and guards would begin making their rounds and Razz would have to move from his spot, unless he wanted the entire castle to know of his emotional state. Word would doubtlessly get back to Blue, and that’s something Razz wouldn’t want - even now.

_The day after the attack Razz had been quiet. He didn’t speak once to Sarai during their morning routine, and she didn’t press for why. Razz didn’t speak of the missing pearl - he hoped everyone would believe that he had simply outgrown wearing it. The bruises on his shoulders were easily masked with cloth and the one visible on his cheek was small enough to simply be an accident not worth mentioning._

_It wasn’t until Slim returned home, a purple-and-blue gash struck across his left cheek, that Razz spoke again._

_“Brother!!!” He lunged forward, catching Slim as he fell to his knees on their dirt floor. His eyes were distant and glassy, as if he was watching something that Razz couldn’t see._

_“Razz. Get the ointment from the second shelf.” Sarai said calmly, removing Razz from his brother as she examined her adopted son’s brutalized face. It was then, when Sarai forced Slim to show her his teeth, Razz saw his brother was missing a tooth. Blood dripped onto the floor from the open wound on Slim’s face as he spoke. Razz will never forget the quiet, broken tones in his brother’s voice._

_“i’m gonna have to find a new place to work.”_

Razz shakes his head. He doesn’t like thinking about that; he won’t allow his mind to bring back those awful memories. He is forced to keep his hand still and away from the place where his mother’s necklace should be.

Razz owes Blue _everything_ . Their relationship isn’t just that of Lord and serf, not since the day that Blue pulled Razz from that damned lake. Blue gave Razz a new life; Razz had been, figuratively and literally, _reborn_ that day. He had gained so much in so little time - and every single bit of it was due to Blue. Something like that cannot be ignored, not even with Razz’s feelings. Razz cannot forget that he does not have control here; and he never will.

Blue has the power to take everything from Razz, and unlike Slim’s awful employer, he has the legal grounds to do anything he pleased with Razz. Blue merely had to say the word and half of Razz’s village was gone, even if it was by Razz’s request.

Blue poses currently the single greatest threat to Razz; he could easily destroy everything that Razz is and has on a whim, and yet-

_“I’m sorry.”_

_Razz was at a loss, starring at Blue as he settled back into the plush mattress. He’s… sorry? For what?? The room was too dark for Razz to see Blue’s face clearly as the lordling elaborated._

_“I shouldn’t have kissed you, when we were in town,” He continued softly. “I understand that you may not feel the way for me that I do for you.” A pit sunk in Razz’s heart - of course he has feelings for Blue! It hurt that Blue didn’t realize that… but the lord kept on. “I just wanted to make sure you understood that no matter what, I will not hold your decision against you. I promised you before, you are free to come and go at your discretion; so please don’t feel as though you have to leave, or that in order to stay, you would have to sacrifice your happiness.”_

_By then Razz’s heart was in his throat, pounding him relentlessly as he clung to each word Blue spoke. The silence lingered between them, Razz not daring to break it incase there was more that was to be said. He wanted to hear more - he_ needed _more. Those words were like a lifeline to cling to before he sunk._

_“I just want you to be happy.”_

Razz had left without a word, unable to create a proper response to Blue. He returned an hour later with the medicine before leaving just as quickly, then perched himself on these steps to cry.

Because what else was there to do? Razz is in love with Blue, and despite all of the ways that this could go wrong, it hasn’t gone anything but right!

And that’s frustrating. Nothing, _not one damn thing_ in Razz’s life has ever gone right before, so why now? Why is Blue so… kind? No one Razz knows is like that - hell, even Razz _himself_ isn’t like that. Given all of the power in the world, Razz would simply take what he wants, there is no doubt in his mind. He didn’t spare a single thought for those whom he punished, while Blue kept mercy for even the foulest of people. How could Blue do so much for someone like Razz?

Razz isn’t good enough for Blue. He never will be; not by birth and not by merit of the soul. These childish fantasies of his must be put to rest soon.

Another tear streaks down Razz’s face, and he decides that it will be his last one.

Standing quickly, Razz brushes off his skirt. There are herbs to brew, books to read, chores to do; he can’t waste his morning hours crying on the steps like some young lady. Razz returns to the castle, making his way to his shop to begin mixing herbs for Blue’s tea. Hopefully the young lord will heed his advice and stay in bed, though Razz finds it unlikely.

When he’s finished with the tea, Razz will send it off with one of the servants with instruction for the lordling to drink it hot. Then he will continue with his tasks for the day as he always does, putting his mind as far away from the lord as possible.

And if the lord were to receive the tea as he woke or after dressing, Razz would not know. If it made him smile to think that Razz was thoughtful enough to send it, Who was Razz to say? And if the lord shed a few tears of his own, recognizing Razz’s unspoken rejection… well…How could Razz possibly be able to tell?

**Author's Note:**

> Do leave a comment!
> 
> And remember to look at [this marvellous drawing by Kyuko-Chan](https://kyuko-chan.tumblr.com/post/169238810766/razz-and-subtle-melancholy-please) that started it all~!


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